Adventures of the Poster Boy for Mental Health
by They Ate My Friggin Tailor
Summary: Tag to 7.03. Dean is very upset about Sam leaving to hunt alone after his recent showdown against Hallucifer. So Dean decides to respond to the situation in a very big-brother way. Warnings: Semi-consensual, non-sexual spanking of an adult, spoilers
**A/N: This is my first SPN fanfic. I am not new to fanfiction, but this is a new account to start fresh. I always had an idea in my head of what could have happened instead of Dean punching Sam at the end of 7.03. Of course this would never happen in the actual show, but that's what fanfiction is for! I totally understand if CP/Discipline/Spanking isn't your thing, but if you're not into it, this is definitely not the fic for you. Enjoy!**

 **Title: Adventures of the Poster Boy for Mental Health**

 **Summary: Tag to 7.03. Dean is very upset about Sam leaving to hunt alone after his recent showdown against Hallucifer. So Dean decides to respond to the situation in a very big-brother way.**

 **Warnings: Semi-consensual, non-sexual spanking of an adult**

Sam walks up to the door of his motel room and reached for the doorknob, only it moved before he touched it. He may be psychic, but he knows for a fact he isn't the one who did it. That could only mean one thing. Suddenly the door swings open and he is pulled inside by the front of his shirt, quite violently, to be honest. It takes him a minute to regain his balance just before he's shoved into the chair by the little table. Sam just isn't ready for this. He looks up at his older brother, who is looking less like a brother and more like a parent who is angry at their wayward teenager for sneaking out. Dean's arms are crossed and he's silently glaring over, saying nothing. Basically, he was trying to burn a hole through Sam with his eyes.

 _'Good thing I'm the psychic brother here, otherwise, looks could kill,'_ Sam thought bitterly. He sighed and said, "what?"

Dean scoffs, only getting more annoyed. "What? Is that the best you got for me?"

"Dean-" Sam starts.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sam? Running off like that? I mean, for all I know, Satan could have been calling your plays-" Dean goes off into a concerned, albeit angry, rant, but is cut off by a less than concerned Sam.

"Dean, look, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm _fine_."

"Oh yeah, no, you're a poster boy for mental health." Yep, there's the sarcastic response that makes Dean, well, Dean. "You have any kind of idea what kind of horror shows I had going on in my head?" He really wants to know if Sam even considered that. Does the kid really not think his big brother still worries? Especially after that little show down with Hallucifer and trying to convince Sam that he is real.

Sam's getting irritated now, yet again being treated like "Sammy", the chubby, snot-nosed little brother Dean was responsible for. Hell, he's almost 30. When is Dean planning on letting him grow up?

"Dean, I left you a note. There was a job..." Sam settles for trying to be reasonable. Because if he wanted to make the claim he was no longer a child subject to his big brother's disapproval that he went off on his own, he should probably back that claim up. And that starts with him responding calmly with a fair argument instead of raising his voice or storming out of the room to go for a walk. Treating these kinds of arguments in that way has never worked in the past. It usually ended with Sam losing control of his anger and Dean hauling his kid-brother over his knee. Dean feels Sam will never be too old for an old-fashioned spanking. It's his job to take care of his pain in the ass little brother. He even told Sam that right before he died – the first time.

"A Kitsune. Yeah, no, I know. And you ignore Bobby and I's phone calls why, exactly?" Dean turns to give Sam the stare-down again, wanting to show as much disapproval as he can. He's not gonna get off easy this time.

"Because I wanted to take care of it." Even Sam doesn't sound like he believes his own argument is anything but weak, yet, he still continues. "And I did. I took care of it."

"Really?" It's more of a challenge than a question.

"Yes." A simple answer, but Sam knows the tone in his brothers voice, and he doesn't like it.

"Where's the body?" Another direct challenge. Dean steps closer to Sam, making him feel uneasy about the whole situation.

Sam is quiet, but Dean keeps stepping close, his stare unwavering. Once Dean gets within his personal space, he averts his gaze and says hesitantly, "there is no body."

"Why not?" And suddenly he's sounding a lot like Cas.

"Because I let her go. She's gone." Sam figured he might as well rip the band-aid off. Dean actually seems surprised at this declaration, but this isn't the kind of upperhand Sam wants. If anything it'll make this coming discussion even more complicated.

"You what? Why?" Sam figures if he wasn't in such a crappy position, the reaction would be hilarious.

"Dean, just drop it!" He jumps up, unable to catch himself. But this is a sore subject for him, considering the last time he trusted a monster, he started the apocalypse. He didn't want to give his brother more ammunition.

Dean clenched his jaw and took the last couple steps to Sam, who stood still trying not to appear worried about Dean's next move. Suddenly, Dean grabbed his shirt and forced him back into the chair the same way he did just a few moments ago.

Sam didn't say anything, just glared up at his brother, biting his tongue. He knew yelling never helped his case any more than talking calmly would, so there was no point in straining his voice and saying something he'd regret. For a few moments they were still, saying a million things in their glares alone.

Dean knows Sam could easily out-last him in a staring contest. So after another moment, he decides to change the subject for now. Turning the focus on what is really upsetting him.

"Tell me, Sam. Did you really think I'd be okay with you taking off in the Impala to work a case by yourself?"

"Of course not. That's why I left you a note." Sam's now slouching, hating the way Dean is standing over him the way he is.

"Dammit, Sammy!" He rubs his forehead, trying to soothe the onset of a tension headache. "You nearly shot me because you thought I wasn't real. Do you really have to make it hard for me to keep an eye on you? At least until I'm sure this... Hallucifer... thing is over?" Dean can't help it, but he's almost begging near the end. All he wants is to know his baby-brother will be alright.

Sam almost feels bad at first, then gets annoyed. He doesn't need someone watching over him. He isn't a helpless child anymore. Dean sees the younger hunter getting riled up again, so he decides to move this along. He assumes Sam hasn't gotten much sleep, if the dark circles around his eyes are anything to go by, so Dean wants to get it over with as soon as possible so Sam can get some much needed rest.

"Plus, I'm sure you could have at least answered your phone to check in, yanno, so me and Bobby could stop worrying about you. Or do you really have that little respect for me? For _Bobby_?" He emphasizes the last part, daring Sam to deny how disrespectful it was, especially to Bobby, who is like a father to both of them.

That hit Sam like a train. He hadn't meant to do that to Dean, but especially to Bobby. He just wanted time to deal with this alone. Dean can see this change in Sam's facial expression immediately and mentally pats himself on the back at the small victory.

"Dean, I'm sorry, I just wanted to deal with this alone-" He cuts himself off once he realizes it's going to keep their argument running in circles. He honestly doesn't know why he didn't just pick up the phone to let them know he was still breathing. And sane.

Dean started pacing, his hand up by his face in deep thought for what feels like ten minutes. But Sam doesn't dare to move after being, quite forcefully, put there twice. He comes to a hard stop and looks back at his little brother. Sam can't help but gulp, and it takes everything in him not to flinch at the sudden change in the older hunter's stance. Maybe the warning signs are branded into his brain from past experiences. But he doesn't have time to ponder that. Deans arms come back up across his chest, looking a lot more determined than he's seen him in a long time.

"You took the Impala. You went off on a Kitsune hunt alone. You didn't answer or respond to any of our calls and voicemails." Dean began listing off transgressions, and Sam subconsciously slouches just a little bit lower.

"Dean, please..." Sam starts sounding exhausted. Dean makes a mental note to send the kid straight to bed once they're done. "Can we not do this right now?"

Dean scoffs and sends a sharp look at his brother before he sits down on the end of the bed closest to the door. "You should know how this works by now, Sammy."

Sam leans forward angrily, but still doesn't dare stand. "You know what Dean, I'm sick of being treated like a child. I'm almost 30. When are you gonna let me grow up?" He all but shouted toward the end of his little rant.

"When you decide to act like an adult! Now get your butt over here." Dean demanded sternly. All Dean gets in response is Sam's all too famous glare. He gives the kid a whole thirty seconds before he sighs. He sounds tired and sad when he says, "Sam, why do you have to make this hard for the both of us? Let's just get it over with, okay?" No response. Dean sighs again and firmly says, "one."

Sam's reaction is immediate. His glare is gone and replaced with a look of panic.

"Two." Dean feels for the kid, but there is just no getting out of it this time around.

"Dean..." Sam begins almost immediately. He's now sitting rigid with panic. "Please."

"Three." Sam is darting his eyes around the room before they land on the door. This isn't missed by Dean, nor is it unexpected. "Sam, you know you wouldn't make it that far. Plus I know you. You wouldn't bail out over a simple spanking. But I can tell you this: If I have to fight and drag you over here like last time, you're getting the belt and losing the pants."

"Dean, come on, I'm too old for this. Can't you just punch me and call it even?"

"Four." Dean continues the count that could be interpreted as a ticking time-bomb based on Sam's reaction. "And I'm not going to hit you. Punching you in the face isn't going to deter you from doing this again. But I know for a fact you're more afraid of this than anything else. This is your last chance, Sam. You have thirty seconds to decide how this is gonna go down." Dean pulls his wrist up to check the time.

Dean watches the terror that plays over Sam's features. It takes up until the last fifteen seconds when Dean stood up to take his belt off for Sam to make his decision. Sam's eyes widened when Dean unbuckled his belt, but seemed to be frozen still. Dean was just about to slide his belt through the loops when Sam jumped up.

"Wait! Okay! Okay..." He puts his hands up, then shoves them into his pockets when he notices they are shaking. Half from adrenaline, half from not eating anything these past few day, but he wouldn't tell Dean that.

Dean buckled his belt back up and sat down, looking up expectantly at his baby brother. Sam gulped and slowly shuffled over to where his big brother was sitting on the bed. Dean was obviously getting impatient, because as soon as he was in arms reach, he was pulled down onto the lap he has unfortunately been over way too many times. Dean pulls him in closer and puts a hand in the middle of his back. It's more of a comfort than a restraint, at least at this point. Sam mentally groans at how humiliating this is, but he supposes that is a big part of the punishment.

Sam wonders why he got himself back in this mortifying position. The general rules are very clear and the consequences clearer. They always have been. Sam thinks maybe he wondered how much he could get away with since the hallucination crap in that abandoned building. If he was thinking Dean would bend the rules because of his mental health as of late, he is sorely mistaken. Because he's going to realize soon that Dean places Sam's safety above all else, and that will never change. Resigning himself to his fate, he puts his face in his arms.

"So, running off to hunt alone and not answering your phone." Dean tsked.

"Would you just shut up and get it over with already?" Sam snaps, and he is rewarded with a hard, unexpected smack to his left cheek. "Dammit!"

"You're not exactly in the position to be having an attitude, Sammy." Dean states calmly.

"Well, if you're gonna do it, do it!" Dean lays another stinging swat to the right side, but this time it's not as much of a surprise.

"Lose the attitude or you _will_ lose the pants and I _will_ use the belt," Dean said firmly. When Dean felt Sam tense slightly at the proclamation, he took that as acquiescence. "There's something else I want to bring up now that I feel you're in a better position to be talking." Sam scoffs underneath Dean, but remains otherwise silent. "So, Sammy... how much have you eaten since you stupidly ran off?"

Sam pales and Dean can feel the body on his lap tense slightly. Sam doesn't want to answer, but even if he did, he doesn't think he'd be able to considering his constricting throat. But a loud "dammit, Dean!" manages to escape his lips as Dean lays two quick swats back-to-back on the same spot of his right cheek.

"I'm waiting for an answer. I can do this much longer than you can take it. You know that." Dean just wants to get this done and over with so they can move on.

Sam clenches his jaw, stubbornly refusing to answer, until he feels Dean lightly give a warning pat to the left side. "Almost nothing. Maybe a bag of chips or granola bar from the vending machine. That's about it."

"Mhmm," is all he says for a moment, seemingly deep in thought when he lands another two swats to Sam's backside, catching him by surprise. "And how much sleep have you gotten?"

Sam sighs and moves to rub a hand over his face. This just isn't his night, and it keeps getting worse. "I'm not sure. About 3-5 hours, average."

"Mhmm," Dean hums again. And after a moment it's completely silent in the room and Sam believes time has been frozen. All he could imagine was Chronos, God of Time, showing up and pausing the moment just to point and laugh. A Winchester, who defeats angels, demons, even _gods,_ is over his big brother's lap like a naughty child. Sam feels his face turn red hot. He's now completely humiliated and ashamed of himself. Now he can't really deny his childish actions of the past few days. His eyes sting as the tears start to build up at the realization he must have really disappointed his brother for him to do this to his almost 30 year old baby brother. He forgets these thoughts, though, as Dean starts up a fast and steady rhythm.

With the tears already in his eyes making him vulnerable, he starts to squirm to dodge the swats, but Dean is managing to hit every spot dead-on. "Dean, I'm sorry!" He cries at a particularly sharp swat.

"Mhmm." Dean continues to work back and forth, left to right, up and down. Over and over he repeats this cycle until both cheeks are red. Sam's face is already stained with tears. He realizes this is the fastest he's ever started crying during a spanking. Even during his stubborn act a few minutes ago, he has to admit to himself he wasn't feeling very stoic. In fact, he felt like he was 12 again; the first time his brother had spanked him.

"Please..." Sam let's out a choked sob.

"Please, what, Sammy?" Dean doesn't even slow down, because, dammit the kid has to learn one way or another. Dean just wants this lesson to stick. For good.

"No more. I get it!" Sam promises. And Dean wants to believe him. _Does_ believe him. But he has to be sure it sticks. Otherwise this whole thing is pointless.

"Get what?" Dean asks, because he's not gonna go through this if Sam doesn't even understand why it happened.

By now Sam is twisting away from the pain as much as he can. He throws his right hand back, but Dean catches his wrist and holds it tightly tucked under his stomach while holding him in place. Now that Dean has him fully restrained, he slowly gives up, realizing the grip on him is too tight.

"I get it! I'll never leave you to go on a hunt alone. I'll never ignore you and Bobby's phone calls. I'll eat. I'll sleep. Just please stop!" Sam cries without fighting Dean.

"I don't like doing this. You know that, right? In fact, when I was waiting for you. I told myself a lot of bullshit reasons not to do it. I even told myself I shouldn't so soon after that crap with the hallucination. Then I realized. The only thing keeping you on solid ground right now is pain. I told you to make that stone step one and build on it. That's what we're doing. So if I actually do this, it means it is 100% necessary. I was _worried_ , Sammy! I didn't know if you were okay, especially after that hallucination you had. The least you could do was answer the phone to let us know you were okay!" Dean's voice started to break toward the end of his speech.

"Yes, I know!"

"So let's go over this, alright?" He stops swatting so Sam can think more clearly. "Is it okay to take off on a hunt on your own?" Sam frantically shakes his head and Dean lands four swats to his thighs. "Is it in any way ever okay to ignore me or Bobby's calls?" Sam shakes his head no again and, yet again, Dean lands four more swats down, making Sam cry out again. "Now, after we finish up I want you getting into something to sleep in and I want you to eat the food I brought you that's sitting on the table, then I want you in bed, lights out. I don't care if it's only 7. Does that seem fair?" Sam nods his head yes sleepily. He didn't notice how exhausted he was until now. "Okay, we're almost done then."

Dean quickly finishes up with 20 more sharp smacks that make Sam cry out again. Dean immediately releases his right arm and begins to rub circles on his back until his cries soften.

"We're all done, Sammy. It's alright. You're alright." Dean eventually pulls him up to stand and stands with him. Sam kind of sways from exhaustion but Dean holds him upright and pulls Sam into a tight hug. They stand there for a while until Dean is sure Sam began to fall asleep. Dean pulls his baby brother away and gives him a look-over before nodding at him. "You did good." Dean walks him over to the small table and sits him back in the chair. He can't help but smile when Sam winces at the hard chair against his butt. Dean pulls out some take out for Sam and sets it in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

"I want you to eat at least half of it, okay?" Dean says softly, knowing his brother is beyond exhausted. Sam nods an affirmative. Dean walks over to Sam's bag and pulls out a t-shirt and some sweats. He lays them on Sam's bed for him "Hey Sammy, I'm going outside to give Bobby a call and let him know you're alright. I have bad cell service in here." Dean could see Sam ashamedly wince at the mention of Bobby but didn't comment.

When Dean came in, the first thing he noticed was Sam's head on the table, eyes closed, with a fork of food in his right hand. Dean pulled out his phone to take a picture for "future blackmail", because, what else are brothers for? "Sammy." Dean shook his shoulder and got only a muffled response. "Come on Sasquatch. Time for bed." He pulls the younger man up and basically carries him to his bed and lays him down, pulling the blankets up over him.

"'m sorry, Dean," Sam mumbled in his half-sleep.

"I know you are. It's okay, though, Sammy. I forgive you. Clean slate starting now." Dean sighed. "Just please don't make me do that again. Okay? I hate doing that to you."

Dean didn't get a response though. Sam was already completely asleep. Dean laughed and shook his head. Sam has always fallen asleep fast after a spanking. All Dean sees when he looks down is the 12 year old version of his little brother. Sometimes Dean wishes they could go back to when it was much simpler. Back before the Apocalypse. Dean has to admit, he's scared as hell ever since the wall in Sam's head broke. Growing up, he was always able to fight the monsters for Sammy and protect him. There was always something he could do to help. But now, well, how was he supposed to fight a monster inside Sam's head? Dean shook his head. He doesn't need to think about that until later. For now, he'll just do what he can as a big brother. So he sits down next to Sam and brushes the hair out of his face, careful not to wake him up.

"I don't know how yet, but I will keep my promise to you. As long as I'm around, nothin' bad's gonna happen to you, Sammy."


End file.
